Charlotte shakes her head. “No, Mom. That’s over a mile away. And they’ll just come after us. This camp is surrounded by empty land.”
“No!” Tabitha barks. “We can try, Charlie. We have to try.”
The doctor’s shuffles take on a staccato, tapping rhythm. His eyes roll back in his head. His flailing hands are less purposeful. He’s dying.
“Mom,” Charlotte says. “Mom.”
Tabitha merely grits her teeth and pulls her arm tighter. There’s a loud snap, then the man goes entirely limp in her hands. She lowers him to the floor gently, keeping the noise to a minimum. When she stands again, she says, “He knew what they were doing to us. He deserved to die.”
Charlotte nods, but it doesn’t change the fact that she just saw a man die. She’s never seen a man die before. Women? Yes. She’s seen far too many women die, but never a man.
Tabitha goes to the door and edges around the rim to look up and down the stables. She must be satisfied with what she sees, because she grabs a hay fork out of the rack beyond the door.
Returning, Tabitha lowers her voice and says, “Listen, Charlie. I’m going to keep these guys busy for as long as I can. I want you to get to the gate. Beg. Do whatever you have to do to get the guards to let you out. Then run. Run for as long as you can for as far as you can. Hide when you can’t run. You know how to do that. I know you can make it. All you have to do is get to a phone and call anyone from home—”
Charlotte interrupts her mother’s flow of words. “Mom, you know I won’t make it. There’s no place to go. We’re hundreds of miles from home. And who is left there?”
Shaking her head in denial, Tabitha says, “No, don’t say that. You can get there. If you have to, you can walk the whole damn way.”
Putting her hands to her mother’s cheeks, Charlotte feels the tears falling onto her own cheeks. They’re so warm. She’s never noticed how warm tears feel before. She whispers, “Mom.”
Tabitha looks at her for a long moment, then tears fill her own eyes. Her mother so rarely cries. “Oh, baby girl. My baby girl,” she says, then grips her in a fierce hug.
In the distance, she hears male voices and the crackle of a radio. They’re coming back.
Charlotte disengages from the hug, then takes her mother’s hand. “Let’s go be free,” she says, wiping her cheeks. Her mother’s only response is a sob.
For the first time in her life, it’s Charlotte who leads. She has to tug on her mother’s hand to get her to follow her outside. Charlotte understands. Mothers will do anything to keep their children alive. This is defeat for her, but for Charlotte, it’s one final victory. She will be the one who decides.
Being alive has taken on a new meaning, and that meaning is unacceptable to Charlotte. A body in a pod, producing endless daughters while she sleeps. That isn’t life. And she would never bring a daughter into this world. Not now. She has only one option aside from that terrible fate.
They pass through the overhang, and into the light of a spectacular day. Bright and clear, with skies so blue they seem painted. She glances back and sees Junior. His head hangs over the door to his stall and his big, brown eyes are on her.
“I’m sorry, buddy,” she whispers.
An attendant rounds the corner of the stable and sees them. He turns back and waves to someone they can’t see. Time is running out.
Charlotte takes her mother’s other hand, so that they face each other, their hands linked.
“I will be free,” she says, then adds, “I am free.”
Tabitha is crying freely now, but she nods and tries to smile. It quivers on her lips, fighting with her need to sob her sadness, anger, and frustration. Charlotte can see it all. She can also see that her mother knows this is the only choice they will have in their lives ever again. It is up to them to make that choice.
“I love you, Charlie,” Tabitha says.
“I love you, Mom,” she answers.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the attendant racing back, two more men following him. One shouts, “No! Goddammit no!”
She looks into the blue sky, the remarkably blue and vivid sky. She thinks of the sister she hasn’t seen in years. Where is Miranda? Is she well and safe somewhere? She thinks of her only other living relative, Wilhelmina, her aunt. Is she safe or has she looked into the sky? Charlotte will never know, or maybe she’s about to find out. Either way, this part of existence is over. Now, she’ll discover for herself if anything comes next.
It takes no time, no effort. It feels like dropping a burden. Her breath leaves her so easily that she feels good for one eternal moment. Maybe that’s what heaven really is, this last long eternity of a breath. The last sound her ears take in is her mother’s final, long exhalation. Her last sensation is grass tickling her cheek and her mother’s hand in her own.
It is the best death she could have hoped for, and it is far better than the life men have demanded of her.
Willa
As Willa returns from the lookout position near the cliffs, Claire runs up to her. As usual, she’s filthy and grinning.
“Did Bee have her baby yet?” she demands, hopping around next to Willa, but somehow also keeping up with Willa’s long strides.
Willa snorts a laugh. “No. She’s on duty up on the lookout. She’s supposed to shoot anyone that comes up that way, so she doesn’t have time to have the baby right